One Piece: Lost in the Tutorial #83

n the bustling workshop of Swallow Island, various gadgets and mechanical contraptions cluttered the space, evidence of the eccentric mind of Wolf, the island's inventive genius. The rhythmic clanking of metal and the hum of machines filled the air as he tinkered with his latest creation.

Suddenly, a News Coo swooped in through the open window, dropping a fresh newspaper onto his workbench.

Wolf wiped his hands on his grease-stained apron and picked up the paper, his eyes scanning the headline: "North Blue Pirate, Blake Thorne Announced as New Warlord of the Sea."

 He let out a low whistle and chuckled. "Well, Law sure knows how to pick'em alright... they're not wastin' anytime if nothing else..." he muttered, shaking his head in exasperation.

He tossed the paper aside, returning to his work with a bemused smile.

..

In the grimy streets of Spider Miles, Asher Blackwell huddled in a dark alley, his eyes scanning the news with a mixture of curiosity and bitterness. "That old man? A warlord?" he muttered, his voice laced with resentment.

"Figures they'd give him a position like that." He crumpled the newspaper and tossed it aside, the memory of being thrown off Blake's ship still fresh in his mind. "One day, I'll show the old bastard," he grumbled, his resolve hardening.

...

On the deck of the merchant vessel Jackdaw, Captain Jack leaned against the railing, a News Coo perched on his shoulder. He unfolded the newspaper, his eyebrows raising as he read the headline. "Well, I'll be damned," he said, a grin spreading across his face.

"A warlord? Never thought I'd see the day." He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Guess he's got more surprises up his sleeve than I thought..."

He folded the paper and tucked it into his coat, his mind drifting back to the days when he had ferried Blake and Sif out of that deserted island and the wonders he'd seen there.

...

In the grand halls of the royal palace in Dressrosa, the opulent decor gleamed under the soft glow of chandeliers. Trebol, with his characteristic nasal laugh, slithered his way through the corridors, carrying the latest edition of the newspaper. He found Doflamingo lounging on a luxurious chair behind his desk, his signature sunglasses reflecting the room's light.

"Doffy! Doffy! Look at this!" Trebol's voice was thick with excitement as he waved the newspaper. Doflamingo glanced up lazily, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"What is it, Trebol?" he drawled, reaching out for the paper. Trebol handed it over, his eyes wide with anticipation. Doflamingo unfolded it, his gaze scanning the headline: "Blake Thorne Announced as New Warlord of the Sea."

"Blake... Blake Thorne..." Doflamingo mused, his brow furrowing as he tried to recall the name. "Ah, the rookie who had the gall to pick a fight with one of Umit's brokers. The name does ring a bell."

He leaned back, his fingers drumming on the armrest of his chair. "My interest in him was more due to Law's presence in his crew than anything else, but it seems that I'll have to reassess my opinion of the brat..."

Trebol's eyes flickered with curiosity. "So, what should we do, Doffy?"

Doflamingo's smile widened, a devious glint in his eyes. "Nothing, for now," he said smoothly. "There will be a meeting of the warlords soon. I'll attend for once, if for no other reason than to size up my new colleague." He chuckled, the sound low and menacing.

Trebol laughed, his nasal cackle echoing through the room. "He won't know what hit him, Doffy!"

Doflamingo's smile remained, but his mind was already working through the possibilities. Blake's sudden rise to the position of warlord was intriguing, if only because it added a new variable to the complex web of power and influence that Doflamingo navigated with such skill.

The upcoming meeting would be interesting, to say the least.

As Trebol left to spread the word to the rest of the crew, Doflamingo remained on his throne, his fingers tapping a slow, thoughtful rhythm on the armrest. The game was changing, and he intended to be several steps ahead.

...

In the clandestine hideout of the Revolutionary Army in North Blue, Karasu, the enigmatic northern commander, sat in a dimly lit room with his second-in-command, Jiron.

The room was filled with the soft rustling of papers and the occasional chirping of birds. Karasu unfolded the newspaper that had just been delivered, his eyes narrowing as he read the headline.

"Blake Thorne has joined the ranks of the warlords," Karasu said, his voice a low rumble.

Jiron leaned over to look at the paper, his brow furrowing. "I can't say I expected this," Jiron admitted. "I still had some hope about roping him into our side, but now he's gone and aligned with the World Government."

Karasu nodded thoughtfully. "Just because he's become a warlord doesn't mean he's loyal to them," he mused. "We should keep a close eye on him. He might still be an ally in the future."

He paused, his gaze turning distant. "Stil... I can't help but worry about Kuma... How did he become a warlord in the first place, and what will happen to him now that he's been replaced?"

Jiron nodded, sharing his leader's concern. "Who knows?" he said. "It's Kuma we're talking about here... he must have had a good reason..."

Karasu stood, his figure casting a long shadow in the dim light. "I would have liked to look into it myself, I'm sure Dragon and the others are on it already..." he agreed. "In the meantime, we should keep a closer eye on Thorne... see if we can make contact again..."

As the News Coos continued their rounds, delivering the day's headlines to every corner of the world, the ripples of Blake's new status as a warlord spread far and wide.

Each recipient of the news reacted in their own way, their thoughts and plans shifting in response to this new piece on the chessboard of the world's power dynamics.

...

At Marineford, the heart of the World Government's military power, the scene was bustling with activity. Marine soldiers swarmed around Vice Admiral Tsuru's ship, unloading crate after crate with precise efficiency. The crates were heavy and meticulously sealed, each marked with a marine insignia.

As one crate was pried open, the soldiers collectively took a step back, their eyes widening in shock and revulsion. Inside, encased in a cubical, gelatinous, see-through substance, were human hearts—over a hundred of them, each one perfectly preserved and still beating.

"What the hell...?" one marine muttered, his voice tinged with horror. "What kind of devil fruit power could do something like this?"

Another soldier, an older marine shook his head, his face pale. "I don't know what kind of fruit, but I know who did this. It's that new Warlord, Blake Thorne."

"Thorne?" someone echoed, his brows knitting together in confusion. "Why would he do such a thing and then send these hearts to us?"

The first marine cursed under his breath. "Why the hell did we send a vice admiral to receive such a foul gift in the first place?"

"They're pirate hearts," the old marine explained, his voice low. "Having them allows us to control their owners. That's why. Thorne trying to make a point, showing us the power he holds."

Another marine, his face twisted with a mix of disbelief and realization, commented, "I did find it strange that over a hundred of North Blue's pirates would suddenly turn themselves in... he probably told the pool buggers to turn themselves in if they ever want to see their hearts again..."

Their conversation was abruptly cut off as Vice Admiral Tsuru, her expression stern and unreadable, approached. Her presence commanded immediate silence, and the soldiers snapped to attention.

"Stop gossiping," she ordered, her voice sharp. "Focus on your duties."

Without another word, she turned and made her way towards the fleet admiral's office, her footsteps echoing in the silence that followed. The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances before resuming their work, the crates of hearts a grim reminder of the strange and powerful forces at play in their world.